


a wake up call to change it all

by witchee_writer



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Billy Fights Monsters Too, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Steve Harrington Has a Bad Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchee_writer/pseuds/witchee_writer
Summary: Billy is woken up in the middle of the night by a mildly hysterical little sister (step-sister), a definitely hysterical bunch of brats over a radio and Steve Harrington in some kind of imminent danger. As much as he wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, he couldn't, he just couldn't. Maybe Hawkins wasn't as boring as he thought (he still hated it though).
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	a wake up call to change it all

**Author's Note:**

> Stranger Things is my new love and I'm mad about SOMEONE dying without the chance to fight monsters and being a reluctant edition to the Party. But anyway, with Stranger Things also came my love for the Harringrove pairing because, of course. The pOTENTIAL THAT WAS THERE. Two guys, single, pretty, could help each other, enemies to friends to lovers trope, yeah, that shit is my jam.

"Billy, Billy wake up!" 

He groaned, turning away from the incessant noise. His muscles hurt, his face hurt, his ribs hurt, all he wanted to do was sleep. It could only have been a couple of hours since he had drifted off, since his father had finally left his room. Small hands shoved him, and Billy hissed. He glared at Max, a growl on his lips. To her credit, she only faltered for a moment. She had hardly looked his way since he had attacked her friend and she had drugged him. She didn't say anything, and neither did he. It had happened, it was done. 

" _What?_ " Billy ground out. 

She bit her lip, the only sign that she was nervous. Max took a breath, rolled her shoulders back. "I need your help, I need you to take me to Steve's house." Billy's eyes widened, and he sat up slowly. Max looked nervous again, then, eyeing him like he might explode and maybe he would. He wasn't fucking joking when he said it was weird that Harrington was at some creepy house with a bunch of kids- "He's in trouble!" continued Max, quickly. "Jonathan and Nancy are out of town, El can't get a hold of Hopper- Billy he's in danger!" 

Billy turned over, "Go to fucking bed, Max, it's one in the damn morning." 

"No!" said Max, grabbing his arm. "No, we're the only ones that can help! Billy, please! He's going to die!" 

The radio in her hand crackled, the volume down as low as it would go. _'They're coming, they're almost there,'_ said a voice he didn't recognise. 

_'Oh my fucking god, he's going to die,'_ said another, high pitched and hysterical. _'We have to do something!'_

 _'I'm working on it!'_ Max hissed into the radio, _'Now, shut up!'_ She looked at him, her eyes wide and pleading. "Billy, please," she said, again. "He needs help." 

And Billy couldn't help but see Harrington's stupid face, the one that he had bloodied. He hadn't been angry at him, not really. Billy didn't have anything against him, if anything he intrigued him. People still called him King Steve, but he only ever saw flashes of it. He certainly didn't want to see him dead, despite how badly he had beat him. He had seen red that day, it had nothing to do with Harrington. It was a lot of things, but not him. Not that stupid kid, either. Billy ran a hand over his face, ignoring the pain. He didn't want to do this, it could only end badly. For him, not Max. 

"Please," Max whispered, again. 

But it wasn't as if Max had asked him something like this before, had asked him for help. She wasn't an idiot, she knew what the consequences would be. He saw her look at the bruises that covered his skin, the dried blood on his face. She knew, but she still asked. She really must have been desperate. Billy groaned, throwing his covers off angrily. "Fine," he muttered. "Meet me out by the car." 

He could do this for her, just this once. 

* * *

Steve heard the Camaro before he saw it.

There was only one car in town that sounded like that, that was so obnoxiously loud. He heard wheels screech into the driveway, a loud bump that could only be the sound of a demodog being run over. Well, at least that was one less to deal with. He'd already killed three, but one had taken a good bite at his leg and another had clawed his back. He could feel the blood on his skin, soaking through his clothes, but he ignored it. He had too, he had bigger problems. 

"STEVE!" 

It was Max. Had she driven her brother's car again? He would kill her when-

"For fuck's sake Max, get back in the car!" 

And that was Billy. But why? It didn't make sense. A demodog threw itself at him and Steve let off another shot, and another, and another, until the thing finally stopped twitching. His hands shook, but he ignored that too. He had to get outside, they could deal with the consequences later. Billy hadn't had to deal with monsters (not like this, anyway) before, Max had, but she was just a child and there were so many. The gate was meant to be closed, they weren't meant to be able to get through anymore. Steve had the strong urge to cry, but he shoved that down for later (when he was alone, jumping at shadows and barely able to sleep). 

Steve knew he couldn't go out the front door, had seen at least one demodog in the hallway. There can't have been that many of them left, right? _Right?_ The problem was he had no idea where they were. The slightest noise had his heart racing, his finger ready on the gun trigger. He heard something get knocked over in the kitchen, and in one smooth movement slipped into the study. Steve knew when they smelt him, the blood. He saw the teeth, the rows and rows of teeth and slammed the door closed. It wouldn't hold for long, he knew that. It was already splintering as he dashed over to the window and slid it open. Max leaned her head out of the car, waving him over, Billy hovered half in and half out of his seat. He had a brief moment to note that this was the most confused that Steve had ever seen him, but given the circumstances that was probably fair. The door snapped off it's hinges and Steve swore as he threw himself out the window. 

Max was screaming, and Steve let out another shot. His ears were ringing but it hardly mattered, he knew it was only a matter of time before he ran out of bullets. It happened sooner then he would have liked, Max threw a door open for him, and Steve managed to get himself into the passenger seat. He was vaguely aware of Billy swearing, of the other kids' voices over the radio that Max had clutched in her hand. Billy swung the car around in one fast movement and squealed out of his driveway. 

_'I'm going over there, that's it, this is a Code Red-'_

Steve turned around, grabbing the radio from Max before she could reply. _'Are you insane, dipshit? You'll die!'_ he snapped, breathing heavily. Steve fumbled the button for a moment and swore, he pointedly ignored Billy's heavy gaze on him, and the look he shared with his sister in the mirror. How was he so calm? There were monsters, they were real, didn't he have questions? 

_'Spoke to Jim,'_ said Eleven, her voice calm. _'He said to come here. Protect friends here.'_

 _'I'll go get my bike-'_ started Mike. 

_'No!'_ snapped Steve. _'You can't run them down on a fucking bike in the middle of the night!'_

_'But-'_

_'No,'_ agreed Eleven. _'Will be picked up, be ready. Max?'_

Max held out her hand, expectantly and reluctantly Steve handed her the radio back. 'I'm okay,' said Max, quietly. _'Billy ran a demodog with his car. We'll come to yours, listen for the car.'_ She turned the radio off and let out a breath, slumping back into her seat. "What the fuck? Why are they back?"

"Hey!" snapped Billy, his voice tight. "Watch your damn language." His eyes flickered sideways, his mouth twisting down. "You good, Harrington?" 

Steve was focusing on his breath, trying not to think about the fact that this was all something out of his worst nightmares. The dark felt oppressive, why wasn't there more light in this town? "Fine," he managed, "Just almost died but hey, isn't the first time so I'm used to it." Steve tried for a chuckle and knew it was a mistake. It sounded a little too close to a sob, he took another breath. "Whatever, it's whatever." 

"Well," started Billy, carefully. "At least you in that creepy ass house with a bunch of kids isn't the weirdest thing I know about you now."

"You mean that night you tried to kill me?" 

Billy winced a little, "Wouldn't have killed you," he mumbled. Steve glanced at him, his tight knuckled grip on the wheel. A part of Steve had always known that it hadn't been about him. Max hardly ever spoke about her Dad but there were times when she did, when she had seemed afraid, when she had tried to defend Billy's bad mood without revealing too much. They had guessed the rest, well, Nancy had. They didn't talk about it, they weren't sure what the rest of the party knew and didn't want to start opening doors that shouldn't have been opened. 

Steve waved a hand, "All good man, I'd be dead now if you hadn't of shown up." 

"Max made me." 

He shrugged, "Still, you're a part of this now." 

"Hey, what about your parents?" said Max, frowning. She leaned forward, "The house is a mess and you left a trail of blood and demodog guts everywhere-" 

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, that's not a problem, they probably won't be back for at least a month, who knows." Billy looked at him, and Steve smiled, tired and bitter. "I hardly ever see them." 

"Big house for one person," said Billy. 

"You're telling me," said Steve. It was going to be even worse now. He had a hard enough time sleeping there as it was but now- now it would be even worse. He already left the lights on, had the radio going through the night. Not even that would be enough, not now the demodogs had found him once. "I fucking hate that place and my stupid pool with it's stupid lights." Billy raised an eyebrow, even Max looked confused. "Well, that's where it began, for me and Nance and Jonathan anyway. That's where Barbara died, in my pool, at my party. That's where it all started, all this shit about monsters and labs." He sighed, deeply. 

"Tell me," said Billy. "You said I was a part of this now, Harrington so you better fucking fill me in on what kind of shit goes on in this town." He glared back at his sister in the mirror. "You too, you should have fucking said something earlier." 

"Like you would have believed me," Max shot back, "Like you would have cared." 

Billy didn't respond to that and Steve took a breath. "Well," he began. "Like I said, it started when we lost Barb..."

* * *

Billy took a long drag of his cigarette, his brain trying to process it all. They sat in the driveway of the Chief's place, Max having already gone inside. The rest of the brats had shown up with the Chief himself not long after. Billy tried (he really did) not to snap at the older man too much at the questioning look he gave. He didn't need his pity or his gratitude or whatever the fuck he thought he was going to say. Hopper didn't seem to care either way. Harrington still sat in the passenger seat, his face an unhealthy shade of white, the bruises stark against his skin. He had waved off his concerned children, the curly haired one (Dustin, his brain supplied), were reluctant to leave him anywhere near Billy. Billy had responded with a sneer and a pointed "fuck off". Harrington hadn't been that happy about that, glaring at him until he turned away. It didn't surprise him that Lucas had edged around the car, eyeing him all the way into the house. But they all left them be eventually leaving just Billy and Harrington, smoking, processing it all, whatever the fuck they were doing. 

Monsters? This town had monsters and girls with superpowers and his sister was in the middle of it? Most of them had almost died, Harrington among them. It was fucking surreal and yet there they were, Harrington in the passenger seat of his car jumping at every little sound even as one of the kids poked their head out the front door every few minutes. They probably just wanted to check that Billy hadn't killed Harrington yet. Billy was beginning to wish he kept something a little stronger in his car than just cigarettes, Harrington looked like he needed it. 

"We should go inside," said Harrington, quietly. "They'll probably track us here soon." He waved his hand down at himself. "Blood, they like blood." 

"So do bears, doesn't mean we're going to run into one," said Billy. 

Harrington barked out a laugh, "Yeah well, it's still only a matter of time and I'd like a gun in my hand when they do. That or El in front of me, either one." 

"And here I thought Hawkins was boring." He shrugged, "Well, if I'm gonna get beat up it may as well be by monsters." Harrington looked at him, and Billy resisted the urge to cringe. He sneered, "What? Got something to say, Harrington?" 

"Nah, not if you don't want to talk about it. Nancy is a bit of a detective though, doesn't like to leave loose ends and Max let a few things slip every now and again, not much, but enough for her to connect the dots." 

"You and your little friends just been gossiping then?" snapped Billy, his hackles going up. He leaned in close, aiming for intimidating. "Well, isn't that nice, don't I feel warm inside." 

Harrington didn't flinch, barely even registered the close proximity. "You're a part of this now," he said, again. "You're a part of the group whether you like it or not, man. If you wanna talk, we can talk. If you don't, we don't have too. I don't really care, not my business if you don't want it to be. How about we deal with these monsters and then leave the other ones for another day, huh? It'll be nice not having to third wheel for Nancy and Jonathan now that you're here." 

"This doesn't make us friends, Harrington," said Billy, leaning back. "This doesn't make us anything, you hear?" 

"So you don't want to get wasted when all this is done? Cause I fucking do and I'm not going to do that with a bunch of fourteen year olds." 

Billy would admit, it wasn't the worst idea. He stubbed out his cigarette and got out of the car, Harrington pulling himself out after him, gingerly. "I imagine King Steve has some pretty good alcohol," he said, ignoring the pain that flashed across Harrington's face when he moved the wrong way. 

"Better then the cheap shit you probably buy," said Harrington, forcing himself up the stairs with gritted teeth. Billy didn't help him, but he didn't move away either. He refused to acknowledge that it was just in case he slipped and fell. 

"I'm not the rich kid with the big house," said Billy. "Besides, cheap beer does the job. Easier to get someone to buy it for you too." 

"Just you wait, you'll never be able to drink cheap beer again," Harrington promised. "You know, assuming we don't all die here." 

"Great," said Billy, sarcastically. "Just fucking great."

* * *

They didn't die. 

Which was nice. 

El _had_ closed the gate before, but the area remained a weak spot. Tears between dimensions didn't just heal overnight and that was how the demodogs got through, the splinters that remained, the splinters that hadn't yet healed. The government, Steve had no idea what branch and frankly didn't care, were going to keep an eye on it. El and Hopper had gone to the lab to ensure that even the splinters that had reopened were closed (and they would check it every few weeks just in case). Steve knew that wouldn't help the nightmares any, but at least the problem was solved. It turned out that having Billy on their side had been invaluable. He was a one-man wrecking machine with a bat, with a gun, with whatever. The house had been attacked, but they managed to keep damage to a minimum. Some scratches, bruises, holes in walls, shattered windows, the usual. 

Steve hadn't been joking when he'd mentioned getting wasted. At the end of the day, he still had to go back home, to the mess he had left behind. Hopper had dropped him off, the government officials already there, dragging the demodog bodies off to whatever secret lab they operated out of these days. Again, Steve didn't know and didn't care. Billy had taken one look at the time and ushered Max into his car, the pair of them speeding out of Hopper's driveway. 

Steve refused to acknowledge that he was a little disappointed. 

It would have been nice to have someone to drink with, to focus on. He never thought that person would be Billy, that they had just spent the last few hours fighting together but weirder things had happened. Even with the sun rising, his house felt far too empty. Glass covered the floor, there was broken furniture, his blood smeared on the walls and the floor. Steve shuddered, tried to look anywhere else. That was probably how he ended up on the front steps, bottle of whiskey in his hand. He deserved this, he was tired and aching, he deserved to get wasted. It was just the right side of cool as the sun painted the sky in shades of purple and pink, then orange, the shadows receding the higher it got. 

He heard the Camaro before he saw it. 

His heart sped up as Billy thundered down his driveway, but Steve didn't have the energy to think about it. That- whatever the hell that was, was something to deal with another time. For now, he was just relieved as Billy stepped out of his car. He hadn't changed, he almost looked as bad as Steve did. Okay, maybe not quite as bad. He hadn't bled through his clothes as much for a start. Billy's eyes flickered around for just a moment, just long enough for Steve to know that he had questions, that he wanted to know why Steve was sitting outside on the cold hard steps instead of somewhere more comfortable, but he didn't say it. 

They weren't that close.

"Max get home alright?" asked Steve, as Billy threw himself down next to him and stole the bottle of whiskey out of his hands. 

Billy twitched, his hand clenching for just a moment. He threw back a large gulp of alcohol, "Huh, you were right, this is good," he said, ignoring the question. Steve supposed he wasn't in the mood to share anything about home, he wouldn't push it, he wasn't one to talk. "I hope you have more." 

"I do," said Steve. 

"Good, you can get another bottle then because this is mine now, Harrington." 

Steve spluttered, incredulously, "I'm the one that's injured, man." 

"And I'm your guest. Now, be a good little rich kid and get us another bottle of whiskey." 

"Fuck, you're an asshole." 

Billy raised the bottle in salute, "Can't change that, I'm afraid." 

Steve rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet. If Billy trailed inside after him, he didn't comment on it. He vaguely wondered if it was all a ploy to get him back inside but maybe he was just overthinking it. Billy was impossible to read, a snarky comment here and there, but little else. Steve humored him, he didn't have the energy to do anything else. They ended up in the lounge room, sprawled across the couches. Steve knew he would have to clean up the mess sometime, but not yet, he couldn't be bothered to deal with it yet. It was the weekend, none of the kids had to be picked up from school. Billy wasn't needed anywhere (and therefore wouldn't get in any trouble, Steve assumed). They had the whole weekend, and if Steve learned that Billy was actually a half-decent cook then he wasn't going to complain. Steve wasn't a good cook, Steve was a fucking awful cook. 

Nancy stormed in, Jonathan on her tail, about 28 hours into the drinking session. Billy was still there, that was a bit of a surprise to Steve but he seemed to have made himself comfortable on the couch and Steve wasn't inclined to kick him out (he'd be alone if he did that). But Nancy stormed in like a hurricane, scolding them both like children. Steve didn't know how she knew where all the cleaning supplies were, but in his haze she found them. She fussed and fluttered around them, taking a sip of Billy's bottle of beer before throwing the contents away. Billy sneered and snapped but Nancy, well, for all that everyone saw her as a goody two shoes, Steve knew better. She was made of hardened steel, Billy could do and say anything, it didn't matter, she would barely even blink. Billy didn't know that though, he could only blink in surprise as she ushered him down the hall to one of the many bathrooms, forcing him to take a shower because he stunk of monster guts. Steve was sent to do the same, and he didn't have the energy to fight her. 

He did feel better for it, but he didn't tell her that. 

Jonathan only shrugged apologetically as Nancy scrubbed at every stain, threw out anything that could not be saved. Steve knew what she was doing, why she was doing it. She knew how much he didn't want too, how likely Steve was to just struggle through it alone. She wouldn't let him, refused. He loved her for that, would always love her, just not like he used too. 

"Jesus Christ," said Billy, leaning back on Steve's bed, his hair dripping wet, as Nancy scrubbed at a particularly stubborn stain in the carpet. "What are you, Wheeler, his maid? Or is this some leftover guilt that you dated him and then started dating this weirdo two seconds after you guys broke up?" Steve looked at him in surprise, Nancy and Jonathan too, Billy just grinned, wide and dangerous. "I heard the rumors." 

"Tommy's a fuckwit," said Steve, slumped down in his desk chair. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to move. 

"Was he wrong?" None of them answered and if anything, Billy's grin only widened. "I take it back, you babysitting a bunch of kids isn't weird Harrington, this little situation you got going here is fucking weird." 

Steve sighed as Jonathan shifted awkwardly and Nancy stood up, her hands on her hips. "Why are you even here, Hargrove? So you fought some monsters, you know all the secrets in the little town, why are you still here of all places?" 

Billy shrugged, cool and calm. It never ceased to amaze Steve how quickly his moods could shift, how casual he could seem one minute and unstable the next. "Harrington has the good alcohol." Nancy shook her head, unimpressed. Billy's grin turned a little sharper. Steve couldn't believe how much could change in a day and half, how much he noticed about Billy, the little things. He had never noticed them before, not really, not unless he was about to punch him in the face. "Don't jump down my throat Wheeler just because you and your little boyfriend missed all the fun. Harrington almost died, I was dragged out of bed to fight monsters, I say we deserve alcohol." 

"You've both had enough," said Nancy, sharply. She sighed, some of the fight leaving her. "You know- you know we would have come too if we had been here, right, Steve?"

"I know, Nance," he said, softly. 

"I can't fucking believe it was Billy Hargrove that saved your life and that he's still fucking here," she muttered. 

"I can hear you, Wheeler," said Billy, even with his eyes closed. He'd shifted even further back in the bed, getting himself comfortable. 

"Good." 

"Didn't realise you had such a sharp tongue," He opened his eyes just to wink at her. "We could make good use of it if you like?"

Nancy's face scrunched up, "Ew, gross." She looked at Steve, "You need to rest, do you need to go to the hospital or anything? Mike said you were hurt." 

Steve shook his head, "No, the government people patched me up before they left." 

"Food? Do you need food?"

Again, Steve shook his head. "Billy cooked pasta." Without opening his eyes, Billy gave Nancy the finger. Steve smiled, softly. "I'm fine, Nancy. You don't need to worry, I can deal with this shit later, okay? Go home, I promise Billy won't murder me in my sleep." 

"I don't promise that," said Billy. 

"Shut up, asshole." 

"Make me, Princess." 

Nancy looked between them, her gaze resting on Steve. He could practically feel the worry rolling off of her in waves. Steve pushed himself up, refused to wince as it pulled at his wounds. "Go home, Nance," said Steve, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I'll be fine, really. Go home, I've got this. You've cleaned the worst of it, anyway and I love you for that. We'll talk tomorrow, okay? Or maybe the next day, I feel like I could sleep for days." 

"If you're sure..." she started, even as Jonathan started to guide her out. 

"I'm sure, go home you guys." 

"Okay, call if you need anything-" 

"Of course." 

Nancy managed one final concerned look over her shoulder, before Jonathan managed to steer her down the stairs. She wasn't happy about it, Steve could tell, but she would go. "Thank fuck," said Billy, as he heard their car start up. "You have more alcohol, right?" 

Steve rolled his eyes, "Top right cupboard in the kitchen, take whatever you want." 

"You're not going to get it for me?" 

"Fuck off." 

"I cooked you food, man." 

"The amount of alcohol you have drunk is worth way more then that." Steve lowered himself onto the bed, gingerly. He shoved Billy, forcing him to make room. "And this is my bed, asshole. I'm injured, I need rest." 

"Stop being a wuss." Billy glanced at him, briefly. He closed his eyes again and shuffled over. "I'm having more of that whiskey before I go, I deserve it, I saved your life." 

"Whatever," said Steve.

"I could move, but I'm comfortable, Harrington. If you mention a word about this I will fucking gut you." The words were half-hearted at best. Steve had the feeling he was saying it just for the sake of saying it. He had seen him flirt with half of the student body. The cheerleaders, the football team, the parents, he didn't fucking care. 

"I could be another notch on your belt, Hargrove," said Steve, fighting sleep. 

"That's true, _King Steve_ ," said Billy, mockingly. He heard him sigh, "Enough talk, Harrington. Wheeler was right, you look like shit." 

"She didn't say that."

"She implied it." 

Steve couldn't argue with that, he turned his head, looked sideways at the man next to him. The morning sun made him look even more golden then usual, from his hair to his skin. He never did really lose that Californian tan. "Hey Billy?" 

"What?" he snapped.

"Thanks for saving my life, by the way." 

Billy opened an eye, briefly, before closing it again. "Don't be, it is what it is." 

"I know, I just felt like I should say it." 

"Go to sleep, Harrington, Jesus," snapped Billy. 

Steve let himself drift, let the darkness pull him under. He was tired, so fucking tired, but sleeping always ended up in nightmares. The alcohol helped, but knowing that someone else was there? That probably helped the most. Steve didn't expect to wake up and see Billy still there but for now, it was nice. Steve could practically feel the warmth from him, it made the darkness pulling him to sleep a little less scary. And he was tired, he was really, really tired. 

Billy would be gone when he woke up, but fuck Steve was grateful for the company while it lasted. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed reading! This is my first contribution to the fandom (the first of many if my saved stories are any indication). Look out for more! I'm not good at spacing them out so I'll probably just story dump everything. No regrets about that decision to be honest. Have a great day everyone!


End file.
